My Holiest Sin
by Angel More
Summary: Two of my passions joined together: Tudors and Borgias. How would the Great Matter end if Rodrigo Borgia was still Pope? Would Henry and Anne's relationship still be the same once they were caught in the political web of the Holy Church? Henry/Lucrezia.


**Hello everyone, here I am with a new draft. This is meant to be a Tudor/Borgia crossover, the main premises being: what if Rodrigo Borgia had been "in office" during Henry's Great Matter? Whose side would he take? And how would he react to the Protestant tendencies? Would he overlook them or would he take action to prevent England from turning its back on Rome? **

**This is only a prologue, there are lots of issues still to be worked on (mainly time changes), but it would help to know your feedback. **

**On with the (attempt of a) chapter!**

It was late at night in Greenwich. Almost every corner of the palace was covered in shadows as the night went by and the celebrations had long faded away. Only a couple of lights shone dimly in the dark, painting a pair of sillouettes frantically against each other inside those four walls. However, the muffled sounds coming from Henry's room were not – as the shadows might have led to imagine – cries of war, but only sounds of the most uncontrolled, overwhelming passion.

Henry hissed in both pain and pleasure as he felt his lover's hands dug deeper into his back, almost drawing blood from it. He knew he should be more gentle, since it was their first time together, but deep down he knew he could not oblige himself to do it. He had spent years of denial, years of endless waiting only to let his hopes and expectations fall to ground as the tribunal charged with the evaluation of the validity of his marriage dragged the matter on and on and Katherine refused to accept her due place, in a fine example of mindless procrastination. In the meantime he had to burn in antecipation, showering Anne with affection, being more and more daring in his kisses and his caresses in order to somehow satisfy the hunger of his needs, only to be denied the supreme pleasure of consumate his love and passion for her. However – and although he knew that good things came to those who waited – his carnal nature was starting to succumb to frustration. Even if he had all the women at Court at his feet that would not be enough. They were ordinary, boringly and painfully ordinary compared to Anne, until _she _came along as a gift from the Heavens, with her angel-like face and her voluptuous body.

There was certainly nothing ordinary about her, he thought as he pushed once more deeper into her while her legs and arms wrapped around him like marbled snakes. How could someone be so pure and yet so vicious was a mystery to him. He buried his face at the crook of her neck, his teeth sunking in her shoulder, as the thrusts became more demanding and with a loud cry they both reached the peak of their pleasure.

When he finally regained his senses, Henry rolled to his side while she clung to him seductively. They stayed like that for a couple of moments, their hearts beating like a thousand drums, until she raised her chin to look at him, only to find those piercing blue eyes staring deeply into hers. She ran a hand across his torso. "Is anything bothering you, Your Majesty?" she asked in that honey, melodic voice of hers.

He shook his head, trying to disguise the utter astonishment a woman like her caused him. "It is nothing, my lady". Much to her surprise, she giggled at his response.

"It's such a good thing that you are much better as a lover than as a liar" and it was his turn to chuckle. He was used to the wits of women, especially of the raven-haired lady whose heart he had fought so hard to conquer, but nevertheless her quick answers and her frontality never ceased to amaze him. "If you say so".

"Oh, don't be so modest" she said as her fingers accidentally grazed his manhood, causing him to tense in alert. "I can see now why they call you the most coveted Prince of Christendom, my lord. At first I thought it was only flattery, but now I see they have reasons to boast your reputation" and with that her fingers kept working slowly on him, making him take a sharp intake of breath as the familiar sense of arousal returned – surprisingly quickly – to his being. "What else do they say about me?" he asked hoarsely. His companion smirked as she crawled to whisper in his ear. "They say you are strong and wild like a stallion. That no man can compare to your prowess. That every woman in Europe would gladly trade their wealth and reputation just to be worth of the privilege to share your bed" she flattered.

Henry smirked between his sighs of pleasure. "And do you concur on that? What do you say about me, my lady?"

She laughed in his ear. "Me, my lord?" And then she climbed on top of him. "I say that even the wildest stallions can be dominated" and with that she lowered her hips to meet him, making Henry moan in desire. The vision of her above him was glorious, her alabaster breasts pacing accordingly to her moves, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her golden cascade falling on her back.

"You will be the death of me, Lucrezia Borgia" he whispered before he allowed himself to drown in her essence once more before the night ended.

**Rome**

Alexander VI leaned his head back at his Papal chair when he finished reading the note from his informants in England. Finally, the plan was in motion. He knew Lucrezia still resented his decision, but in the end she had accepted her mission like one of his bravest soldiers. He could not care less about Katherine of Aragon – even though they shared the same home country -, but he cared deeply about the state of his earthly realms. As a shepherd of souls, he did not like to see some threatening black sheep among his loyal subjects, which was precisely what Anne Boleyn was. As soon as he started to learn about her Lutheran tendencies and her influence on Henry, he started to devise a plan. He sent the bait and Henry had bitten it, like he expected the King would.

"Any news from Lucrezia?" Cesare's voice was heard beside him. Rodrigo smirked. The relationship between his son and daughter was always intriguing to him, as Lucrezia's everlasting adoration towards her brother had turned into a zealous, almost bordering the obsessive, feeling of fierce protectiveness from Cesare towards her. It must have been difficult for the cardinal to imagine his sister on Henry's arms. Nevertheless, Rodrigoallowed himself to share the good news, every word of his dripping malice:

"The wheels are turning, my son. The wheels are turning".


End file.
